


Never Knew You Cared (Both of You)

by Miss_L



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, who needs plot when there's sex?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 18:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3080609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_L/pseuds/Miss_L
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwaine is not getting a lot of sleep because of the goings on in the next chamber - Merlin and Percival decide to remedy this terrible slight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Knew You Cared (Both of You)

Gwaine found himself in a pickle. He had thought it clear that he had laid claim on the big-armed giant the very first time they met (and Percival had saved all their lives, causing a frigging _rockslide_ with his bare hands - _that_ time, yes). And yet it seemed that said big-armed giant couldn’t take a hint. Or two. Or twenty. The noises coming from the adjoining room were proof of that. And Gwaine would have been fine if it were some bar wench or serving maid who was blessed with Percival’s affections, but nooo – it was Merlin! 

The knight groaned and turned over in bed, trying to ignore both the delicious sounds and his own erection that was _in no way_ a result of said sounds. He promised himself not to jerk off to his two best friends shagging, and continued instead his vexed contemplations. He could not believe Merlin would betray him this way. Of course, his rational mind knew full well that he had never made any clear indication of wanting Percival all to himself. Leering and raunchy jokes and innuendos didn't count, because he was known three lands over for those – it was his way with everyone. Most of those everyones did end up in his bed sooner or later, but again – Sir Percival of the Knights of Camelot did not know. How. To. Take. A. Hint. His rational mind also knew that Merlin didn't have the ability to read minds and didn't have to assume that anyone else would be interested in his fuck-buddy, but the knight didn't feel exactly rational right now.

Gwaine suddenly noticed that his thoughts were flowing in the same rhythm as the powerful thrusts on the other side of the wall. He grabbed his pillow with a soft wail and pushed it over his head, trying to plug his ears. Of course he could still feel the shocks of the bed against the shared wall, but without the - _oh so enticing_ \- soundtrack, he could pretend they were waves washing against a ship. Or the feet of his enemies twitching before he dealt them a final blow. Their little weasely faces twisted in horror and thin gawky legs shaking and enormous ears- Honestly, what did Percival even see in Merlin that Gwaine didn't have? Except the ears, of course.

An extra hard thrust, followed by two excruciatingly loud moans, signified the end of tonight’s exercise – unless they decided to go again (Gwaine shuddered) – so the knight let go of his pillow and lie in bed, panting in frustration and ignoring the wetness at the front of his breeches. He had not touched himself, so it really didn't count… And what was the worst thing about the whole situation, he decided before blessèd sleep took over, was that this was not the first, or the second time. Merlin and Percival had been going at it like bloody rabbits for _two whole weeks._ And the end of their lust was not in yet in sight, either. At least not if their furtive glances and stupid giggling in the hallways of the castle were any indication. It really was not fair, Gwaine thought with an even more pathetic wail than before. Of course, rationally speaking, he could stay at the tavern until he was certain that the torture was over. But where was the fun in that?

After what had felt like a very short sleep – more like a nap, really – Gwaine woke up to hushed giggling and talking in the next room. He was glad he couldn’t make out the words – until the sex noises started again. Today was not going to be a good day, he thought hopelessly, palming his morning erection and hiding his shameful face in the pillow. 

***

Gwaine had been right about the day not being a good one. After an extra difficult training (Arthur didn't care that he hadn’t caught more than a few winks last night, chalking it up to his exuberant drinking), the knight went on patrol. Of _course_ his horse threw a shoe at the furthest possible point from Camelot and reared so suddenly, Gwaine lost his grip and landed in the bog. Sir Bedivere’s mare was known for her fine ankles, so riding together was out of the question, and they ended up walking home through pouring rain. Only to be met with the King’s bad temper when they arrived much later than planned. An envoy from Cenred’s lands had not been welcomed properly and the shit was about to hit the fan. 

By the time diplomatic peace was restored, Gwaine was so wrung out, he didn't even want dinner. All he wanted was a bath – which he got – and sleep for a week. Which he didn't get. _Surprise, surprise…_ The moment he blew out the candle and snuggled up under his sheets, _they_ stumbled into Percival’s chambers, clearly tipsy. Merlin had always been horrible at holding his ale (strange, considering how often Arthur was complaining about his servant spending all his time at the tavern) and Percival just liked a few jugs after a hard day’s work. Gwaine breathed through his nose at the loud thuds of badly coordinated bodies – wall, dresser, side of bed, loud giggling when two bodies fell onto said bed…

The sleep-deprived knight got up with a groan and got dressed. He could use a walk, and he knew that he would not be getting any sleep anytime soon. Not in this room, anyway. Maybe he could room with Mary for the night, or sleep in the kitchen. Sadly, the kitchen was occupied by the cook and her late-night preparations for tomorrow’s feast, and Mary already had company. Gwaine didn't fancy sleeping under the stars – the chill from the cold rain hadn’t yet left his bones, and the nights were quite cold as it were. After a short walk, he decided to go to the tavern. But his heart wasn’t in it, the knight realised as he stared dully into his jug. He just wanted sleep. And maybe he secretly wanted to listen to his neighbours. Nobody would know. But the barmaid was definitely surprised to receive payment for an untouched mug of ale from the biggest drinker in Camelot.

Gwaine creeped through the drafty halls to his room. He stopped briefly in front of Percival’s door. Loud snoring confirmed that the sex was over with. The knight let out a relieved sigh and smiled to himself. 

Gwaine was drifting off. Already, milk-white breasts and soft thighs were inviting him into their sweet and voluptuous caress. The knight smiled widely and stepped into this delightful feast. Only to be yanked out of it violently by a loud thud. Disoriented, the knight leapt out of bed, dagger at the ready. No intruder had disturbed his chambers. But the chambers next to him were being thoroughly disturbed. _Again._ Gwaine put down the dagger and rubbed his tired, tired face. Enough was enough.

He burst through the door of Percival’s chamber, dazed with lack of sleep and frustration of all kinds. Mostly sexual, if he was honest with himself – but he almost never was.

“Could you two. Keep. It. Down?” He tried to keep his voice down, but it still came out shrill.

At least Gwaine had the satisfaction on seeing near-panic on Percival’s flushed face. His glee quickly turned to guilt, however – that big lob was too sweet and kind to be shamed thus. Merlin’s face registered only surprise at the interruption and outburst. In the faint light of an almost burned-out candle, his pupils were blown impossibly wide and Gwaine forced himself not to look at where their frames interlocked. He had _not_ imagined this scene in his mind for the past two weeks, and he would _not_ feast his eyes now that he had the chance. (Did I mention that he was never honest with himself?) But this time, he really kept his gaze on his friends’ faces. Which were now turning towards each other with the most wicked, sinful expressions possible. All Gwaine’s instincts shouted at him to get out, and get out _now,_ lest he would find himself in a situation no amount of ale could erase… But he had never been one to turn down a challenge. 

He heard, more than saw, Percival’s cock _(huge, glistening, red)_ unsheathe itself from Merlin’s arse _(tight, slick, mouth-watering)._ Merlin beckoned him closer with his elegant fingers. Which Gwaine had definitely spent hours staring at. Percival straightened his back and scooted back on the bed, still on his knees and still achingly hard. One of his enormous arms came up in an invitation, and Gwaine finally broke. Like a man in a dream _(but so real – too real),_ he stepped forward and let his friends pull him into something _so_ much better than a dream.


End file.
